


Mineekas Blooms: The Deciding (Episode One)

by Delcesca_Newby



Series: Mineekas Blooms [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delcesca_Newby/pseuds/Delcesca_Newby
Summary: In their twentieth year, all godlings must face the Fates to receive a Purpose and enter godhood. Mineekas, Hades' and Persephone's only child, is ready to come into her own, but worry plagues her. What will her Purpose be? Will it hinder her plans for her future?





	1. Chapter 1

Mineekas watched Admasan’s swollen, bent fingers play with her hair, hair Mineekas’ mother always said reminded her of black onyx speckled with stardust. The long-retired nursemaid attempted several hairstyles and muttered under her breath when her newest attempt didn’t satisfy. After several minutes, the shadow daemon spun Mineekas, so she faced her instead of Mineekas’ green opal vanity. 

“Are you having trouble?” Mineekas asked. 

Old age had taken hold of Admasan over the last few years, and each day it seemed a new ailment plagued her. Mineekas hadn’t wanted her ex-nursemaid to care for her (she had several competent handmaidens at her disposal), but Admasan had been insistent, and Mineekas hadn’t had the heart to decline the daemon. Not today when her nerves twisted so that she could hardly reason or remain still. 

Admasan’s milk-white eyes narrowed. “You think me too old to work a simple braid?” 

“No, I just know—” 

“Bah, my fingers work fine.” 

“Then what’s the problem?”

Admasan sighed and gestured to Mineekas’ peplos. “Who created this monstrosity? It could frighten Tartarus.”

Out of love for her grandmother, Mineekas didn’t verbally agree, but the shadow daemon spoke the truth. The peplos Mineekas wore had been colored to resemble bleached wheat, and Mineekas wondered if it’d been crafted from the grain, it itched so. Small, fat pig designs decorated the gold belt around Mineekas’ hips, and the pin at her left shoulder resembled an overflowing cornucopia. 

Despite having lived her twenty years in the Underworld, Mineekas had never set eyes on anything as ugly as the peplos Demeter had begged her to wear to The Deciding. Her grandmother hadn’t said it out loud, but Mineekas knew Demeter hoped the peplos would convince the Fates to grant Mineekas a Purpose in the same vein as Demeter’s. Hades had tried to explain the Fates wouldn’t be swayed by clothing, but his sister had ignored him. 

Now, Mineekas wished she’d declined. In a few hours, she’d meet many gods for the first time. Already, she knew they’d whisper about her, but the peplos would make it worse. 

Mineekas rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s traditional at least, right?” 

Admasan snorted. “It’s one saving grace.” She shook her head. “Today you enter godhood. Why not embrace it by burning that eyesore?” 

“I promised, and, besides, I’m sure others will look as ridiculous as me.” 

Mineekas clung to the hope. It was the twenty-first century, and ninety-nine percent of the gods had adapted with the time. They only put on clothing best forgotten in Ancient Greece when they met for the summer and winter solstices. Why Zeus had made that a rule, no one could tell Mineekas, but he’d use anyone who ignored the dress code for target practice. When Hermes had visited last, he’d delighted in telling her Zeus only missed when he was drunk, and over the millennia he’d developed quite the alcohol tolerance. 

Admasan cupped Mineekas’ cheek. “Oh, child.” She pulled a lock of her old charge’s hair. “I’ll make you as stunning as possible. Maybe if your face and hair dazzle no one will look lower.” 

Mineekas’ optimism crashed, and she sighed. “Do whatever you think will help.” 

The shadow daemon spun her back around and set to work. Though Demeter had requested a more old-school style of hair and makeup, Admasan settled on a loose, intricately braided bun that framed Mineekas’ pointed face and highlighted the green flecks in her bruised-purple-colored eyes. The ex-nursemaid didn’t add much makeup for fear of masking the paleness of Mineekas skin. 

Mineekas went to scold Admasan’s brash behavior but paused. The shadow daemon had a point. Why should Mineekas hide the fact that she was an under-dweller? All of Mount Olympus already knew of her origins or would once the day ended. She had nothing to be ashamed of. 

“Might I provoke Zeus, though?” Mineekas pondered. She didn’t wholly resemble Persephone’s first form, but more than once Hekate had called her by mother’s original name. 

Admasan patted Mineekas’ knee. “With your father there, I’m sure Zeus won’t pay you any mind.” 

“If he does though?” 

Admasan grinned and displayed her platinum-colored teeth. “Make him regret it.” 

“Make who regret what?” came a soft, firm voice from the opposite side of Mineekas' bedroom. 

Daemon and young goddess turned to face the tall, sturdy figure. Mineekas smiled while the retired nursemaid made a rude sound. “Where is the privacy, my Lord?” 

Hades tilted his head, and his brown-blonde hair brushed his square jaw. “Forgive my intrusion. Though in my defense, I did knock, several times.” 

Admasan waved away his words. “Not loud enough.” 

Hades nodded again and winked at Mineekas when Admasan’s attention dropped to a wrinkle in Mineekas’ peplos. She didn’t dare respond with the shadow daemon so close but offered him the smallest of grins. 

“Are you almost ready?” Hades asked as he stepped farther into Mineekas’ room. 

He wore a simple gray monochiton that hung to the middle of his calves. No gems or jewels adorned his belt. The only embellishment on his person was his crown, made from a material forged from the darkest shadows in Tartarus and a bit of water from each of the Underworld rivers. At one moment it seemed solid, then it would pulse and look as substantial as a spirit. As a child, Mineekas had thought it changed with each beat of Hades’ heart, but Admasan had set her straight: the crown had a mind of its own, and if Hades persisted on being a fair, worthy king it would remain on his head. 

She remembered asking what would happen if someone else wore the crown (Mineekas had contemplated ‘borrowing’ it for years). The daemon had smiled, as wicked as she’d ever appeared, and explained that the shadows would render the breath from the individual as the rivers’ waters melted the flesh from their bones. They wouldn’t die, though, but stay forever trapped in their petrified body. 

Mineekas had never pretended to be the ruler of the Underworld again.

“Am I?” Mineekas looked at Admasan. “Can any more be done with me?” 

Admasan kissed Mineekas’ forehead. “Nothing that won’t change you.” She narrowed her eyes at Hades. “Be sure to watch our child. The vultures will come in waves today. I don’t want her returned to me, pecked and worse for wear.” 

Hades extended his hand. Mineekas took it, and he helped her from her seat. “Don’t worry,” he told the retired nurse. His eyes, blacker than the purest coal and as shiny as the pebbles Mineekas used to polish and put in her parents’ personal garden, flashed. “Our child will be safe.” 

Mineekas gulped. It wouldn’t be all that bad. Despite all the stories she’d heard over the years (most of which didn’t favor the gods, especially those told by under-dwellers), she knew, at least at the solstices, they controlled themselves. 

They might not with her, though. Not if they only considered her an under-dweller. Besides it making them sick, there was a serious reason why under-dwellers stayed below the earth. 

The fruit Mineekas had eaten that morning churned in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t go. Sure, if she didn’t attend The Deciding, the Fates wouldn’t give her a Purpose, and she’d be barely stronger than a godling, but at least she could avoid the potential disaster that awaited her on Mount Olympus.

Mineekas had been staring around her room as she considered chickening out of The Deciding, and her gaze fell on the framed picture on top of the television Hades had paid Hephaestus a small fortune to customize so it could operate in the Underworld. Mineekas’ personal hero Kallolee, a legendary Bollywood actress who’d died the moment Mineekas had been born, smiled like always, and Mineekas hardened her resolve. Kallolee had overcome so much to reach stardom so Mineekas could endure what awaited on Mount Olympus. Plus, while her entourage was small, Mineekas had a few heavy hitters on her side. 

Mineekas nudged her father with her hip. “Are you ready?” 

Hades quirked his left eyebrow. “Oh, I’m the one holding us up now?” 

“Well, you and Admasan.” 

Her father chuckled, but the retired nursemaid refused to abandon her sour mood. She ushered her old charge and king from the bedroom, kissed Mineekas one last time, and slammed the door shut. 

Hades shook his head. “Woe, the chambermaid that sets foot in there.” 

“Do you think she’s just overreacting?” 

Her father squeezed her fingers. “Most of the tales you’ve heard are highly exaggerated.” 

“Which ones?” 

The deadpan expression Hades wore when before a spirit in judgment gripped his strong, handsome features. “I hope you don’t find out today.”

A/N:  
This is the first of long planned series about Hades' daughter. I plan on posting two chapters every other Saturday. I only posted early this week because I'm going to be super busy the next couple of days. Thanks for your time.


	2. Chapter Two

Daemons stopped on the side of the main road as Hades’ chariot thundered past on its route from his palace to the main gates on the far reaches of the Cocytus. They waved and wished Mineekas well. Zwenp, Hades’ current advisor, wouldn’t approve, yet Mineekas didn’t care as she smiled and blew kisses to as many of her subjects as she could, which helped distract from her jumbled nerves. Her father’s attention stayed on controlling the four black, more-mist-than-flesh horses that pulled the chariot. 

On a typical day, Mineekas hated the horses. Their hellish-red eyes spoke of more intelligence than the average beast, and they had a nasty habit of spitting acid when they weren’t the center of attention. Frankly, the mad creatures terrified Mineekas, but today she welcomed the fear their wake invoked. Maybe they’d convince those on Mount Olympus to behave. 

As they passed one of the several light posts along the road that, the lead horse shot a wad of acid at the glass bulb on the top of the post. The glass broke and the glow-stone inside shattered. A young blood daemon, no older than its second cycle, clapped his hands and laughed. The adult fire daemon beside the youngling smacked him in the head before hauling the blood daemon away from the crowd. 

Mineekas’ heart sank for the youngling. He would likely survive his encounter with the adult daemon, though in the days that followed he’d wished he hadn’t. Many times, as a child, Mineekas had pleaded with her father to change the way daemons raised their young (he never had, though he’d agreed with his daughter. He’d explained, while their King, he was still a guest in the daemons’ home. He refused to offend them). While capable of great love and compassion, most adult daemons offered none of their better sides to the younglings. More than once, they ate their children for no other reason than boredom. 

Mineekas had asked Admasan why adult daemons were so cruel. She’d chuckled and pointed out the nearest window. “Look where we are, child,” she’d said. “If they don’t learn young the harshness of this world, they won’t reach my age.”

“But doesn’t it make you sad?” Mineekas had demanded, moments away from crying (she’d been such an emotional godling).

Admasan had gathered Mineekas in her arms then. “That’s why you’re my only child.” 

Mineekas cleared her head of the depressing memory, said a prayer for the unfortunate blood daemon and focused on the ride through the city surrounding Hades’ palace. While cruel, the daemons kept the city beautiful. The buildings, made from precious metals and the purest gemstones, gleamed in the light the glow-stones provided. All visible fountains gurgled with water harvested from the five great rivers. The off-branching streets bustled with more life than usual for Hades had given all but the most crucial daemons three days off to celebrate their princess entering godhood. 

She loved her home, but once again, as happened more and more lately, Mineekas longed for a change of scenery. Visiting Mount Olympus would be a good start, yet she’d had enough of gods’ realms. More than anything, Mineekas wanted to walk amongst the humans. 

All of the Underworld knew of Mineekas’ fascination with humans. Since she could walk, she’d escape Admasan, so she could go see the spirits that awaited judgment. Talking with the recently departed had delighted her; their stories and lives so much different than those of under-dwellers. Her parents hadn’t minded her excursions, but they’d upset Zwenp, and he’d put a stop to them. 

Dejected but not defeated, Mineekas had traveled to the Fields of Asphodel. The place had scared her at first, all those spirits wandering and gray. But she’d soon discovered if she approached the ones emitting a soft, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it green light (they shined because the Lethe’s effects weren’t always a hundred percent), she could talk with them much like she had the newly arrived spirits. The first one Mineekas had ever spoken to was Kallolee. 

Zwenp hadn’t liked her in the Fields any better, but he’d had a harder time finding her. The Fields were the largest part of the Underworld and stretched for so far multiple times Mineekas had feared getting lost. Admasan had told her tales of young daemons who’d wandered into the Fields for fun and starved to death or been mutilated by harpies. Yet Mineekas had always managed to find her way home (a trait many daemons thought spoke of a deeper connection to Persephone’s first form). 

The chariot reached the bridge across the Styx. On the other side, thousands of spirits milled around as they waited for the next leg of their journey. They’d yet to be judged, so hadn’t drunk from the Lethe. Some spoke, others bemoaned their fate, and more than a few argued with each other. All screamed and dived out of the way as the horses neared. The horses whinnied, as if to laugh, and snapped at the closest spirits. The horses couldn’t bite the spirits, but, as Mineekas had learned long ago, it took the dead years to accept they didn’t inhabit a physical shell. 

Sooner than she was ready, Hades drove the chariot past the main gates and over the Cocytus. A wide tunnel stretched before them, the last stretch before they left the Underworld. Mineekas clutched the edge of the chariot as the mouth of the tunnel approached. This was it. Once out, she couldn’t go back. Could she brave the coming hours? 

Hades glanced at Mineekas and smiled. “Shield your eyes. The sun is brighter than the flames of Acheron.” 

Mineekas placed one hand on her forehead as they burst into the Upperworld. Even with the shade her palm provided, her first sight of the Upperworld blinded. For almost a minute, only a white light consumed her vision. She blinked until it slowly faded and took in the new surroundings. 

The chariot raced on an invisible path through the sky, aimed toward a massive mountain in the distance. Below, the cities and towns of Greece zoomed by, almost too fast for Mineekas to make out. What she did see, though, stole her breath and filled her with a warmth like what she’d felt after sneaking some of Admasan’s ale two years ago. 

Every fall Persephone returned to the Underworld, she came with hundreds of pictures she’d taken from the various parts of the world she’d visited. Her mother always managed to capture the most amazing moments with a detailed eye Mineekas envied. Yet Persephone couldn’t immortalize in film what Mineekas saw as she passed over Greece. 

Colors she’d only read about or seen on television jumped out at her. Instead of damp, dark smells, Mineekas’ nose tickled with the heady, fresh scent of growth she associated with Persephone. For the first time, a light, warm breeze brushed over her skin.

All at once, Mineekas knew she’d give almost anything to stay in the Upperworld. 

“Can’t we stop for a moment?” Mineekas asked as she spotted several human children eating what she hoped was ice cream. 

Hades flicked the reins, and the horses ran faster. “We don’t have much longer ‘til The Deciding. The Fates may like me more than most, but they won’t forgive tardiness.” 

Mineekas sighed but abandoned her disappointment as she gawked at her surroundings. She loved seeing the humans in their complete state and pitied what awaited them in death. More than once she giggled at the silly antics of the animals (so different than the Underworld beasts). Mineekas wished she could pluck every flower that crossed her path.

How did her mother leave this for six months every year? 

Soon the chariot reached the base of Mount Olympus. Without missing a beat, the horses took the narrow road that wound around the entire mountain. Mineekas lost sight of the humans, animals, and vegetation, but didn’t mind. The mountain provided its own thrills. While made from similar materials found in her home, they’d manifested a bit different in the Upperworld, and Mineekas didn’t think she’d ever see rocks and dirt in more dazzling colors. 

With nickering loud enough to shake the heavens, Hades’ horses left the road, and the chariot came upon a large area set up much like the parking lots Mineekas had spotted on the journey to Mount Olympus. Instead of cars, though, hundreds of various sized and colored chariots sat in neat little rows before an intimidating marble wall that stretched out in both directions for farther than Mineekas’ eye could judge. Nymphs tended to the creatures attached to the chariots or directed gods to the golden gates that cast a shadow over much of the lot. 

Hades pulled on the reins, and the horses’ ground-eating gallop slowed to a reasonable trot. He whistled and caught the attention of two tree nymphs. They bowed before leading the way to a single lot near the gates but in a section all its own. As they drove by, many of the gods pointed, first at Hades, then at Mineekas. Some giggled or attempted to hide smiles behind too slow hands. Others outright gagged. 

Mineekas heart sank to her toes. She stepped toward Hades, to hide in her father’s comforting shadow, but stopped and forced herself to remain in place and expressionless. She refused to let them smell blood. She was the only daughter of one of the most powerful gods to exist. The nobodies surrounding her would not make her feel inadequate.

Once the chariot was parked, Hades handed the reins to the shorter of the two nymphs. “They eat brimstone.” 

The nymph gulped as she took in the horses. The nearest one looked her over, then stomped toward her. The nymph yelped, thrust the reins into her friend’s hand, and ran off. 

The second nymph gazed at Hades. Her leaf-green skin had paled a few shades, but she didn’t appear as frightened as the other nymph. “They spit acid, right?” 

Hades nodded. “I wouldn’t leave them alone for long.” 

The nymph squared her bony shoulders. “Yes, my Lord.” She bowed again before facing the horses.

Hades chuckled and helped Mineekas from the chariot. No other nymph ran to aid them to the golden gates, and Hades didn’t wait for one. He took his daughter’s hand and led her from the chariot. 

“Do you think she’ll be fine with the horses?” Mineekas asked.

“If she’s wise, she’ll make it through the day with minimal burns.” 

Mineekas wasn’t as sure as her father, but she dropped the topic. With nothing else to distract her, her mind grew obsessed with what the marble wall and golden gates contained. The back of her neck dripped with sweat, made her peplos stick. Mineekas fought with her feet, which wanted to run from Mount Olympus. Again, her stomach churned. 

At the gates, Hades paused. From a concealed pocket in the folds of his monochiton, he produced a yellow wafer no bigger than Mineekas thumbnail. He held it out to her. “I think you could use this. Hekate made it for you.” 

Mineekas took the wafer and examined it. “What’s it for?” 

“It’ll settle you, so you’re chances of vomiting on the Fates decreases.” 

She needed no further information. Mineekas popped it into her mouth. The moment the wafer touched her tongue, it dissolved and left behind a mild taste akin to raw green peas. The flavor only lasted a moment, then a firm but calm sense of relaxedness flooded Mineekas, and her urge to flee vanished. She still worried about what lay ahead, but she could think clearly for the first time since waking that morning. 

Hades squeezed Mineekas’ fingers. “Better?” 

She smiled at him. “Much. Thank you.” 

Her father offered a grin of his own, then gestured to the armored centaurs standing in front of the golden gates. As one, they opened the gates wide enough for father and daughter to pass. Mineekas swallowed one huge breath and stepped into the Heavenly City. 

A/N:  
Okay, I've got exciting news. For anyone not in the know, I wrote and published a book, Ill-fated, that takes place in the same universe as this series. It's a reworking of the Cassandra of Troy myth. I've decided to do a giveaway for a free, signed copy of Ill-fated. The giveaway will run from now 'til 11:59 pm (EST) on May 31st. The way to enter is simple: just follow me on either Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Gab.ai, or Goodreads. You can find me under the same name Delcesca Newby.


	3. Chapter Three

“Head to the main pavilion, my Lord,” the centaur on the left said to Hades as he passed, though he didn’t need to. Thousands of bodies converged ahead, all seeming drawn to the clearest, most soulful music Mineekas had ever heard.

“Thank you,” Hades replied, and swept Mineekas past the gate. He paused, gave her enough time to gape in awe at her surroundings. 

They walked on a gold walkway wide enough for three of Hades’ chariots to move side-by-side. Along the edge of the sidewalk, clusters of silver-colored flowers nestled in the thickest, healthiest grass to exist. With the flowers, strawberries grew, fat and too-red to be real. 

When Mineekas tore her attention from the ground, she saw that most the city was level. The main path branched off into smaller ones that wound around perfectly landscaped parks, fountains as big as Mineekas’ bedroom, theaters, bandstands, museums, pools, food stalls promising every item known to man and then some, and a dozen other buildings Mineekas couldn’t identify. 

At different sections of the city, though, existed a hill. On each sat a palace, all different colored and shaped. All impressed, but none as much as the one directly in front of Mineekas. It could house three of Hades’ palaces and the Underworld city and still have room. The gilded doomed roof gleamed in the sunlight, but not enough to hurt the eyes. The walls had been constructed in marble of the purest white and seemed to pulse much like Hades’ crown did. 

The mighty palace (no doubt Zeus’) wanted to project warmth and majesty, but, unlike the other palaces, lacked a soul. Somehow, it seemed darker and colder than the deepest depths of Tartarus. 

Against her will, Mineekas pressed herself closer to her father. Hades had watched her as she took in the sight before her, and now he looked between her and Zeus’ palace. His lips pursed but he didn’t comment. 

They stayed like that for a minute, then Hades pulled her toward the throng of bodies before them. They didn’t talk as they walked. While excellent at hiding it, Mineekas knew her father was on edge, maybe more so than her, and not because he worried for her safety. Hades hadn’t been on Mount Olympus in three thousand years, and the last time he had, he’d leveled most of the city. In the sneers of the older gods they passed, Mineekas knew The Rich One’s assault hadn’t been forgotten.

Mineekas often wondered how her father didn’t crumble from his family’s rejection. Sure, the daemons treated him better than most of his siblings ever had, but the creatures’ company couldn’t be the same. For twenty years, Hades had acted as a father to his younger siblings, all but Zeus. He’d saved countless of his nieces and nephews during the Titanomachy. Without him, there would be no Mount Olympus, no long reign of the gods.

How did that no longer matter those around her? 

A better question occurred to Mineekas, one she’d never considered before: Had her father’s contributions ever mattered?

She wanted to ask but didn’t know the right words, and if she didn’t choose her words carefully, she’d never pull a satisfying answer from Hades. He’d never forbidden her from asking about his past, yet he’d made it clear he’d prefer her to leave it be. Hades had once told her, nothing he’d suffered had any importance now that he had her and Persephone. 

A goddess not much taller than Mineekas approached them; elbowed and pushed any god in her way. Her milkweed-colored peplos complimented her green-tinted skin and honey-blonde curls. The scent of fresh-cut barely, her favorite fragrance, followed her like a cloud.

Mineekas rolled her eyes. Of course, she could wear something flattering. 

Demeter stopped before her brother and granddaughter, left too much room for the distance to be accidental. Her pumpkin-orange gaze barely acknowledged Hades before it settled on Mineekas. A smile tugged on her paper-thin lips as she looked over the appalling peplos but vanished when she took in Mineekas’ hair and face. 

“I thought I said traditional!” 

A second figure appeared then, almost the spitting image of Demeter. Except her skin had a rosy tint and shades of black streaked her white-blonde locks. Around her multi-colored eyes (Hades called them his springtime bouquet), tendrils of gray marbled the thin flesh there; the most significant giveaway to Persephone’s first form. 

In Persephone’s hair, she wore a headband made of seven-petaled white flowers with silver and black lines, reminiscent of vines, on the edges of the petals. The flower was as old as Mineekas, had come into existence the moment Persephone first set eyes on Mineekas. Mineekas knew the world would adore the new species, but her mother refused to share it. 

Persephone took the other side of her daughter, her attention on Demeter. “She’s fine.” 

A flash of fury crossed Demeter’s broad, pinched features. “It’s not acceptable. Do you want to give the gossips another reason to talk about her?”

Persephone pointed at Mineekas’ peplos. “You’ve fueled their eager tongues for centuries to come.”

Red splotches broke out on Demeter’s neck and arms. “She looks wonderful.” Demeter finally met Mineekas’ gaze. “You like it, don’t you?” 

All three older gods watched Mineekas as they awaited her response. Her parents had taught her to always be truthful, no matter the cost. Yet staring at her grandmother, so fragile and clinging to the hope of doing something right, Mineekas couldn’t break her spirit. 

She stepped away from her parents and kissed her grandmother on both cheeks. “It’s lovely. Thank you.” 

Demeter beamed and hugged Mineekas. “How did a place like the Underworld produce a child as sweet as you?” 

Mineekas didn’t know how to reply, so laughed, then returned to stand between her parents. 

Demeter straightened her peplos. “Will you ride with me sometime this summer?” she asked as she examined her sandals. 

Persephone shook her head. “My answer hasn’t changed.” 

Though most her face was hidden, Mineekas still glimpsed the hurt there and the tears her grandmother tried not to shed. “I have to ask,” she muttered. “One day you’ll say different. One day it’ll be like it was.” 

Persephone snorted and grabbed Mineekas hand. She marched past her mother, Mineekas, and Hades in tow. Mineekas couldn’t resist sparing Demeter one last glance. The Olympian had hunched over, and her shoulders shook with the force of her tears. 

No one had outright told Mineekas what Demeter had done to make Persephone hate her so, but the story had been too exciting for no one to talk about it, and Mineekas had always been good at eavesdropping. Through the years, she’d pieced together the event that had severed the millennia-long relationship. 

When Persephone had discovered she was the reincarnated Daemon Queen and the first ruler of the Underworld, Kore, she’d decided to marry Hades and live half her life in the Underworld. The news had devastated Demeter, and she’d sought help from Apollo. What she’d offered him in turn, no one knew, but every summer Apollo had given her a concoction that would render an individual infertile for an entire year, and every year Demeter had fed it to her daughter. 

For three thousand years, Persephone and Hades had tried for a family but thought it wasn’t meant to be. Then, for reasons only guessed at, a little over twenty years ago Apollo had revealed Demeter’s secret, and the fight that ensued had left an entire continent’s crops devasted. From that moment, Persephone had refused to be around her mother for more than five minutes. She still came to the Upperworld every six months, out of duty, but was always on the opposite side of the world of Demeter. 

Mineekas didn’t like that her grandmother had tried to control Persephone’s choices, but she could tell how much Demeter regretted her actions. Once, after watching Persephone be so cruel to Demeter the Olympian had bawled like a godling, she’d begged her mother to forgive Demeter. Persephone had spit at Demeter’s feet and said, “Some things can’t be forgiven,” before leaving the room. 

This outcome had been three thousand years in the making. Maybe it’d take another three thousand to heal.


	4. Chapter Four

Most of the crowd parted to allow Mineekas and her parents through. Closer to the main pavilion, much of the attention was focused on the large stage constructed there where the Muses played music. Spread out around the pavilion, most of the performing creatures did their acts. Gods threw gold and silver didrachm at the displays they enjoyed. Even Hades tossed a handful at a satyr who told jokes at the Olympians’ expense. 

Now away from Demeter, Persephone’s mood improved, and she urged Mineekas to food stall after food stall. Persephone had few obsessions, the greatest one being food. Every fall, she returned to the Underworld with dozens of samples for Mineekas and a book of recipes to keep the cooks busy. 

Due to Hekate’s wafer and her mother’s coaxing, Mineekas ate more than she’d anticipated she would. Everything tasted wonderful, though Persephone lamented about it being too perfect but soulless. “Humans have the delightful ability to put passion into their food. No one here can match that,” she said after the sixth stall. 

Mineekas shrugged and stuffed the rest of her curried chicken kabob in her mouth. 

Multiple dancefloors had been constructed, and countless couples held each other close in various dance styles. They tried to be sly, but more than once Mineekas caught her parents’ eyes meet, and one would nod to a dancefloor. The other would sigh and step closer to Mineekas. After the fourth time, she put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. 

“Enough,” she said. 

“Of?” both her parents replied. 

She pointed at the nearest dancefloor. “Go. Have fun.” 

Hades frowned. “No, this day is about you.”

“I don’t think it’d be—I don’t want to leave you alone,” Persephone added. 

“I’ll stay in the area, I promise.” Her parents didn’t seem convinced. “Please, for me. It can be a late birthday present.” 

Hades looked at his wife. “Could we spare a minute?” 

She smiled. “I think so.” Persephone wrapped her arm around Hades’, then pegged Mineekas with an unwavering look. “Wandering is not advisable.” 

Mineekas held up her hands. “I’ll behave. Just go already.” 

Hades led Persephone away before she could lecture their daughter further. Mineekas watched them leave and cheered when they started an elegant waltz that drew the attention of several other gods. A few applauded along with Mineekas, but most either wore disgusted expressions or seemed petrified and fled the dancefloor. 

Neither cared. Their gazes didn’t leave the other’s face. They managed to steal several kisses and made the gesture a part of their dance. Minutes into their dance, both laughed, and the joyful noise rose over the music. 

Mineekas noticed two Muses glance at each other, and they shared a fleeting grin. 

She had promised her parents, and she wouldn’t go far, but dared to brave the festival herself. Mineekas ensured her parents were still consumed with their fun, then slipped into the crowd. 

Without Hades and Persephone, Mineekas still received more looks than she liked, but the number had decreased considerably. For the first time since arriving on Mount Olympus, a tiny weight left her. If she wanted to, she could pretend she was no different than the gods around her.

Two water nymphs entertained a small audience with magic tricks beloved by humans and caught Mineekas’ attention. Many of the spectators giggled as the male nymph spoke, but he didn’t slow in his monologue. His companion, on the other hand, glared from her spot beside the props. When someone made too loud of comment, she responded with a rude gesture. Her fury only delighted their onlookers more. 

“Maybe if you shut up, they’ll be able to get to it,” Mineekas said to the god in front of her who’d complained about the nymphs taking too long to entertain them.

The god whirled around, and nectar sloshed out of the goblet he held onto his monochiton. His neon yellow eyes narrowed. “Did I ask you to comment?” 

Mineekas nodded at the nymphs. “Did they ask you to act like an ass?” 

The god’s sapphire-blue skin flushed to a deep purple color. “Who do you think—” He glanced over Mineekas’ shoulder, and his lips pursed. He bowed. “Nice to see you, my—” 

“You!” a slurred, almost-too-feminine voice called from behind Mineekas.

She turned in time to have a sharpened fingernail poke her in the chest. It hurt more than the assault should have, but Mineekas refused to cry out or knock her attacker’s hand aside. Instead, she pinned the tall, curvy goddess with a curious look. 

“Yes?” 

The goddess’ seafoam-colored gaze unfocused, and she wobbled on her high-heeled sandals. Wine overpowered the scents of vanilla and rose that surrounded the goddess. Splotches even stained her form-fitting, silver peplos, and chunks of vomit crusted the ropes of gold and gem-encrusted necklaces she wore. 

“Let me—” Mineekas made to steady the goddess, but her efforts were slapped away.

“I will not be touched by filth,” the goddess yelled and drew more looks. 

Mineekas jerked back. “Who are you to talk to me like this?” 

She’d never met this goddess, and no attributes jumped out to hint at who she was. Regardless of the goddess’ title and Purpose, Mineekas refused to be spoken to like she was some deceased rat that had been spotted. Out of a majority of those in attendance, pure, royal ichor coursed through Mineekas’ veins. Though she didn’t like it and would never expect it (usually) or enforce it, that warranted a high level of respect. 

“Ha!” the other goddess squealed. “Who am I? Who are you?” She jabbed Mineekas once more, harder than before. “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpected pain followed, and Mineekas’ back straightened. “Don’t do that again.” 

The goddess bent close to Mineekas, and her pearl-tinted cheek almost brushed against Mineekas’. “You think you can stop me?” She snorted. “Maybe your father can, but you certainly can’t.” 

Suddenly, a familiar god stepped out of the crowd. He grabbed the goddess’ arm; his usual crooked smile absent. “Enough. You’re making a fool of yourself.” 

“It isn’t fair,” the goddess said, her gaze still on Mineekas. “He took everything from me and was rewarded with her.” 

Hermes sighed. “Now is not the time to get into this.” 

The goddess pushed Hermes, but he didn’t budge. “There’s never time, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I don’t matter.” 

“You know that’s not—” 

“Oh, shut up.” The goddess brushed a lock of strawberry blonde hair out of her face. “I’ll go, but before I do...” 

The goddess spat at Mineekas. 

The glob of saliva landed on her nose, and her gag reflex kicked in. Mineekas held her composure, though. She feared what the goddess would do if she sensed weakness. 

Without another word, the goddess staggered off into the chattering crowd. Hermes watched her leave, then handed Mineekas a handkerchief, one embroidered with tiny Russian flags. He had an extensive collection of flag-themed handkerchiefs from all over the world, and even from countries that had long ceased to exist.

“Sorry.” 

Mineekas cleaned her nose. “What was that all about?” 

“Oh, that display wasn’t about you; wasn’t for you.”

“She mentioned my father. What did he do to garner so much animosity?” 

Hermes raked fingers through his coiled, light brown hair. “I’m not sure if—I think Hades should be the one to explain it to you.” 

Mineekas groaned. “Yeah, how often is he willing to do that?” 

Hermes’ cheeks dimpled as he smiled. Mischief danced in his luminous, light blue eyes. “Just do what I do with my father.” 

Mineekas shook her head. “I want him to like me.” 

“Oh, then you’re screwed.” 

Mineekas chuckled and tried to return Hermes’ handkerchief. He grimaced and shook his head. 

“Uh, no. You can have it. Think of it as an extra birthday present.” 

Mineekas folded up the handkerchief and hid it in one of the folds of her peplos. “I’ll cherish it forever.” 

Hermes grinned again and patted her on the arm. “Are you okay, though?”

While he looked amused, genuine concern shadowed Hermes’ words. Comfort flooded Mineekas. Despite his sordid history, Hermes was nothing but respectful and loving toward Mineekas and her parents. In fact, the rare times he vacationed, he always spent a week or so in the Underworld. While Hermes would never leave Mount Olympus or forsake the Upperworld, he often said the Underworld was his second home. Once, drunker than Dionysus had ever gotten, he’d confessed to Persephone he wished she and Hades were his parents. 

“Yeah.” 

Hermes scrutinized her for a long moment, then nodded. “Good. Then you need to come with me.” 

“I’m not going to let you get me into trouble.” 

He’d had a bad habit of convincing her to terrorize the palace when she’d been a young godling. No matter what her parents and Admasan had threatened, Mineekas had always been willing to go through with one of Hermes’ schemes. That eagerness for trouble had faded with age, but it still lingered under the surface of good manners. Mineekas couldn’t deny she’d enjoy messing with the masses around her, especially since more than a few deserved it. 

“No trouble today, I promise.” Hermes winked. “But you’ll be back one day, and then we’ll have fun.” 

Mineekas rolled her eyes but didn’t chide him like Persephone would have. The idea more than tempted. “So, why do you want me to come with you?” 

Hermes took her hand. “The Deciding is about to begin. I’ve been asked to escort you to the prep area where you’ll wait for the ceremony.”

Mineekas’ heart dropped to her feet. “T-that soon?” 

Hermes smirked. “Yep.”

“What about my parents? Can’t I see them one last time—” 

Hermes shook his head. “We’ve got a schedule to keep. You do not want to put the Fates behind, not even by a second.” 

Mineekas sighed. “O-okay.”


	5. Chapter Five

Her feet felt like lead, but Hermes had no problem guiding Mineekas through the crowd to the rear of the pavilion where a considerably less amount of bodies converged. Unusually, he didn’t poke fun at her nervousness and didn’t tell stories to make her anxiety mount. Instead, Hermes talked about Johnny Dune, a character he’d just stumbled across in the DC comics he consumed like ambrosia. Mineekas didn’t pay the conversation much attention (she wasn’t a fan of comics like he was), but his easy tone helped ebb her urge to flee. 

Luckily, Hekate’s wafer still seemed to be in effect. Mineekas’ stomach was the only part of her that hadn’t gone into turmoil at Hermes’ announcement. 

Sooner than Mineekas liked, Hermes stopped outside a small tent that had been constructed beside the pavilion. Unlike everything that surrounded it, the tent was unassuming. It looked like it’d been around since the Fates awarding Purposes had been made into a spectacle. 

Hermes kissed Mineekas hand. Seriousness etched his face as he eyed her. “You’ll be okay, you know.” 

“But where will I belong after all is said and done?” 

“Where you need to.” 

Mineekas didn’t like his answer, but Hermes gave her no opportunity to argue. Without warning, he opened the flap covering the tent’s entrance and shoved Mineekas into its dim depths. Mineekas whirled around to yell at him, yet no one stood behind her. 

“Rotten, little—” 

“Hello, darling.” 

The rich, rough voice surprised Mineekas. She turned back to the tent’s depths and gasped. The few candles allowed her to make out the two figures that sat before her. The one was a goddess Mineekas’ age. She had hair the color of new leaves and enormous eyes the same shade of blue as Hermes’. The goddess wrung her hands and sweat coated her mahogany-colored skin. 

The second figure was one Mineekas knew well. The Olympian had skin that appeared to crackle with fire as if she’d been born from the hearths she tended. Her night-black hair moved like a flame in light wind, and her red peplos complimented her eyes, which mimicked pools of lava. 

These traits drew attention but didn’t hold it. No, her horribly disfigured face got the focus once noticed. During the Titanomachy, she’d been tortured and almost killed by Coeus. Only her strength had seen her through the ordeal. Unlike others, though, the Olympian didn’t hide her battle scars. She wore them like a badge and often said they were a reminder of cruelty best left in the past. 

“Oh, Hestia!” 

Mineekas threw herself into her aunt’s arms. 

Hestia caught her and cradled her close. She smelled of smoked maple, a scent Mineekas loved. “How have the wolves treated you today?” 

Mineekas considered telling Hestia everything, especially about the goddess who’d spit on her, but thought better of it. The lesser gods Hestia wouldn’t bother with, but Mineekas was sure the curvy goddess had been an Olympian (her guess was Aphrodite), and Hestia wouldn’t stand for an Olympian causing her niece distress. 

While Hestia didn’t appear as fearsome as her fellow Olympians, she harbored a ferocity best left untapped. Hermes had told Mineekas that not even Ares would bother Hestia. The only god that did was Zeus, but he did it rarely and only risked her wrath because he knew his sister preferred passiveness over conflict. 

“I—It’s about what you’d imagine.” 

Hestia scrutinized Mineekas, then nodded. She released her niece and pointed at the goddess beside her. “Mineekas, this is Devert. Devert, I’d like you to meet Mineekas.” 

Devert glanced at Mineekas. Through her fear, Mineekas recognized an upper-dweller’s distaste. Her strong jaw clenched. “Oh, you’re Hades’ daughter, aren’t you?” 

Mineekas allowed her gaze to linger on Devert past a respectful amount of time. Devert squirmed, and Mineekas smiled. “Are you one of Zeus’ bastards?” 

Devert’s cheeks reddened, and she gazed at her lap. Hestia’s lips pursed, yet she didn’t chastise or try to direct the conversation into more pleasant territory. 

Harsher words sat on Mineekas’ tongue, but she swallowed them. She hated to disappoint Hestia. It bothered her more than when her behavior upset her parents. 

“So, how does The Deciding go?” Mineekas asked. 

“When the time comes, I will guide the both of you up to the pavilion’s stage. The Muses will have cleared, and the Fates will be there waiting for you. Both of you will stand before the Fates, your backs to the crowd.” Hestia glanced at Devert. “They’ll start with you.”

Devert had returned to wringing her hands. “W-what will they do?” 

“Mark you before they announce your Purpose. Then they’ll move on to Mineekas and repeat the process.”

It sounded too simple a procedure that might change the course of Mineekas’ life. “How long does this take?” 

Hestia shrugged. “If there are no interruptions, it should only be a few minutes.” 

Devert paled. “Interruptions? What sort of interruptions?” 

“They very.” 

Devert swallowed hard. “Might a certain—Could—H-has—”

Hestia touched Devert’s knee. “My sister wouldn’t dare disrupt the ceremony with her grievances.” 

Devert exhaled sharply out of her nose. 

“But—” 

Devert’s eyes bulged even more, and Mineekas wondered if they’d topple out of their sockets. 

“I recommend you don’t remain on Mount Olympus,” Hestia continued. “This is no place for Zeus’...mistakes.” 

“Earth isn’t safe for me, either.”

Hestia frowned. “I know.” 

Sudden sympathy for Devert hit Mineekas. Though many hated her because she was Hades’ prodigy, at least she didn’t have a target on her back like every one of Zeus’ illegitimate children. Mineekas would take dirty looks and snide comments over the wrath of Hera any day. 

“Maybe you should—” Mineekas stopped herself. She’d almost suggested Devert pledge servitude to Hades. Zeus wouldn’t even bother her if she did that. 

It’d be a waste of breath, though. No upper-dweller would ever consider that, wouldn’t taint themselves. 

Hestia looked at Mineekas as if she knew what her niece had been about to say, but Devert hadn’t even acknowledged that Mineekas had spoken. She seemed lost in trying to come up with a way to survive long enough for Hera to grow bored with her existence. Mineekas wished her luck. Supposedly, Hera still bothered Heracles when the mood struck her.

The three goddesses remained in silence for a long minute. Then Hestia stood, and drew Mineekas’ and Devert’s attention. She held out both her hands, one to each of the younger goddesses. 

“Come. It’s time to face your destinies.” 

Mineekas and Devert locked eyes. All Mineekas’ worries were mirrored in Devert’s gaze, and Mineekas was sure the same could be said for Devert. The moment passed, and both gulped before they took Hestia’s hands. 

Hestia gave her nieces’ hands an affectionate squeeze, then pulled them out of the tent.


	6. Chapter Six

Unlike when Mineekas had first arrived at the tent, no one ran around. The entire area was empty except for the trio of goddesses. Another thing seemed off, but it wasn’t until they were mounting the stairs that would take them to the pavilion’s stage that Mineekas realized what it was. 

There was no noise.

No music. No shouts and laughter. No calls from vendors with enticing offers. All performers had fallen quiet. 

The sudden lack of sound chilled Mineekas, especially when she looked past the stage and saw a sea of faces gazing up at her. For a second, she worried something was wrong with her. Had she been cursed when the Olympian had spit on her? 

Then, just as she reached the top stair, Mineekas stumbled and would have fallen if not for Hestia. A ripple of laughter followed her blunder. Her cheeks reddened, but she wasn’t as embarrassed as she normally would have been. Though she appeared a fool, at least her ears worked properly. 

Hestia guided her nieces to the center of the stage where three white-haired goddesses, all in identical blue-black peploi that sparkled with moving star constellations. Hestia turned the pair toward the Fates, kissed each on the left cheek, and left. 

Due to the Fates’ Purposes, and their clear favoritism of Hades, Mineekas had seen them often over the years. She’d never been allowed to interact with them, but the few times she’d caught their soft black eyes, she’d never sensed they disliked her. More than anything, Mineekas thought she intrigued them (she did exist because of their meddling millennia ago). 

Now, directly before them for the first time, Mineekas couldn’t assume any of their opinions. Their round, so-pale-it-was-translucent faces held no expression. They remained so still they seemed carved from stone. 

The only part of the Fates that moved so Mineekas knew they were alive was their visible golden veins. If Mineekas concentrated, she could see that they wove into intricate designs, only to unravel the next moment. Then the process would repeat, on loop, though the same design never formed again. It was as oddly captivating as it was unsettling. 

Without warning, Clotho, the middle Fate, flung her hands out and caught Devert’s head between them. Devert’s breath hitched. Her skin lost all color when Clotho pulled her close, and the other two Fates stuck their faces in Devert’s. 

Mineekas pondered what the Fates searched for. What could they see in another’s features that revealed an individual’s Purpose? Had they ever been wrong? If they were, what did that mean for mislabeled god? 

Suddenly, the Fates stepped back from Devert. As one, they stuck their right thumb against Devert’s forehead. A glow formed where their skin touched Devert’s. 

“From this day forward,” they started (their harsh, low voices shouldn’t have echoed from the stage and through the crowd like they did), “Devert, youngest of Zeus’ progenies, you will know your Purpose as Goddess of Forgotten Baseborn.”

Delighted gasps followed the announcement. Mineekas wanted to react, though not because she found the Fates’ declaration funny. In fact, it disgusted her. How could they be so cruel? Already Devert carried a stigma that made her life difficult. Thanks to the Fates, they’d made her existence impossible. 

Devert didn’t react to the Fates’ announcement. She wore an insipid grin, and her eyes had become unfocused. Her silly expression remained even after the Fates removed their thumbs from her forehead and moved on to Mineekas. 

Like with Devert, Clotho grabbed Mineekas and brought her so near their noses almost touched. Then Lachesis and Atropos bent forward. An overwhelming scent of age wafted from the trio, though they appeared only a few years older than Mineekas.

To have three pairs of the same eyes study her made Mineekas’ heart skip a beat. At first glance, the Fates didn’t have the most unsettling gaze Mineekas had ever seen. Their eyes could even be considered pretty, once the golden ring around their irises and their thick lashes were noticed.

Moments after the aesthetic value of their eyes were noticed, it became clear the unmeasurable amount of knowledge the Fates contained. One realized the eons the Fates had lived and would continue to live. With that vast information and longevity of life came a power only one being had ever attempted to control, and in the end, he’d failed horribly.

How did the trio remain sane? How didn’t they rule the world? Why didn’t they seem to want to? Most others wouldn’t hesitate to abuse the Purpose the Fates possessed.

The Fates considered Mineekas for another minute. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore they were taking longer with her. If so, why? Was she hard to read? Could they have run out of Purposes to assign? If they had no Purpose to give, what would they do with her? Would Mineekas be forced to wander as a Purposeless goddess, weak and yearning for belonging? 

More than one god and goddess had forsaken The Deciding, believed they were better than the ones before them or hadn’t considered a Purpose that important. Every one had faded from reality, an outcome worse than death. At least in death, a bit of the god or goddess remained, though on another plane. If a god or goddess faded, they disappeared entirely. 

Was that Mineekas’ future?

The Fates stepped away from Mineekas. She waited for their thumbs, but they never came. Instead, the Fates focused past her, into the crowd. 

Mineekas didn’t care if she broke a rule, she turned to see what had captured the Fates’ attention. 

Far in the back, the crowd parted to allow a lone figure to make its way toward the pavilion. Grumblings and cries of outrage followed, but the figure didn’t slow. Though it caused much distress, no one tried to stop it. 

Halfway to the stage, Mineekas recognized the figure’s muted orange hair and ruby red skin. She frowned. What was he doing here? Hades couldn’t have granted him permission to leave the Underworld. 

In no time, Epiales, an Underworld god Mineekas had never liked, reached the pavilion. With one mighty leap, he left the ground and landed on the stage, not too far from Mineekas. He nodded at her, then bowed at the disgruntled crowd. 

“Forgive my rudeness,” he called. His slick, deep voice promised excitement-tinged terror. “I should have done this before now, but time did get the better of me.” He glanced over his shoulders at the Fates. “Do you forgive me?” 

Atropos harrumphed. “Even with this predicted, it still irritates. So, no, you are not forgiven.” 

Clotho nudged her sister. “Be a good sport. Besides, you’re wasting time. The child is overcome with worry.” 

“Yes, yes,” Epiales said. He addressed the crowd again. “I relinquish my Purpose.” 

Before anyone could react, the Fates forced Mineekas to face them once more. Their thumbs pressed against her forehead, and she felt warmth flood from the source of contact through every limb. It was like she’d just dipped her body into a heated mineral spring, and Mineekas loved every bit of it. 

“From this day forward,” the Fates said, though Mineekas could hardly hear them through the pleasant fog that had filled her mind. “Mineekas, the only child of Hades, you will know your Purpose as Goddess of Nightmares.”


End file.
